Battleaxe (7 page)

There was silence for a moment, then Priam stepped forward. “I think the news was grim enough to make anyone lose their wits for a moment. But the Duke of Aldeni speaks wisely, and I am glad that at least one cool head remains in this room. I fear that over the next few months we will have news as bad or worse, and I think that we should all make the decision now to meet whatever the future holds for us united with all the courage and resourcefulness that we can muster. Now, perhaps we can retake our seats.”

After a moment’s awkward silence, Moryson stepped forward hesitantly. “Sire, if I might speak?” Priam nodded.

“Sire, has there been any report about what kind of creature attacked both Gorkenfort and the Retreat?”

“Yes. The two brothers who managed to escape the slaughter in the Retreat and several guards who rushed to Magariz’s quarters related what they saw. Magariz was attacked by creatures no-one has seen previously, or at least lived to report seeing, while three more of these same creatures led the attack on the Retreat.”

Duke Roland wheezed and grunted as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “And these strange creatures are…?”

“Large creatures, as large as the wraiths but far more substantial. Taller than a man, but man-shaped. They appeared to be made of old bones held together by yellowish ice; with very little actual flesh. Each had a skull of a strange tusked beast for a head, their eyes silvery orbs, beaks instead of mouths. Leathery wings tipped with talons. Frightening creatures. Huge raking claws for hands. And odd
bits of white fur stuck over their bodies. Two led the attack on Magariz, three the attack on the Retreat.”

“This is terrible,” muttered Isend, “terrible.” His dark eyes shifted nervously about the other men in the room.

“But what did they want, sire? Was it just—” Axis paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully, “the body, or was that just a random happenchance?”

Priam shook his head, his eyes haunted. “No. The two brothers who escaped the room where the creatures slaughtered most of the brothers said that they whispered Rivkah’s name as they attacked. It was only after they had taken her body that they returned to the scriptorium and destroyed most of the books and records that were there.”

Jayme and Moryson again exchanged glances. “And the brothers saw the creatures carry off her body?” Jayme asked.

“No,” Priam replied. “They fled to a closet when the Retreat came under attack. They heard the creatures go down to the crypt, then up the stairs to the scriptorium. After destroying the scriptorium and its contents they feasted on the bodies of the brothers. Only after an hour’s silence did the two left alive emerge to discover the complete carnage.”

“Why?” whispered Borneheld. “Why?”

No-one could answer him. Priam spread his hands helplessly. Jayme, his face as white as fine parchment, rested his head heavily in one hand. Jorge looked about him for a moment, then leaned forward, his voice low and intense, but growing louder and more angry with each word.

“I am dismayed by the reaction here in this room, and I am now old enough not to care if I insult each and every one of you in saying that. Is this a war council? Or is every last man of you like the young virgin who, when confronted by a rapist, knows not whether to run screaming or to smile politely and lift her skirts for the invasion?”

Jorge glared about the table, his grey eyebrows bristling with indignation. “Every one of you seems to have missed the point that
the greater tragedy would have been if Magariz had been killed or taken.
Magariz
is the man who currently holds the fate of Achar in his hands. He is the one who, until he can be relieved, must hold these creatures back.”

Jorge leaned still further across the table and stabbed his finger at each of the men sitting there. Now his voice was low and intense. “I am aware that Rivkah was either sister or mother to three of you and I am aware that the loss of the brothers upsets the Seneschal deeply. But Achar faces an unimaginable threat from an unknown foe. We cannot weep and wail over a body that is thirty-years’ cold. Pull yourselves together! Act like men and the leaders of Achar that you are supposed to be!”

Jorge leaned back in his chair, his weather-lined face defiant. He was disgusted with the way Priam had acted. Priam was supposed to be the man to provide the leadership for the whole nation, but had instead sat in his chair and gone into a fugue over the loss of his sister’s body. And as for Borneheld…he had always harboured doubts about Priam’s wisdom in appointing the untested Borneheld as WarLord, and Borneheld’s behaviour today had only deepened them. Jorge shifted his gaze to Axis, who was relaxed back in his chair, his eyes half-lidded.

Jorge spoke again into the silence. “BattleAxe. What is the danger?” Let me see just how good he is, he thought to himself.

“You have said yourself,” Axis replied calmly. “The danger is that Achar is about to be overrun by creatures whom we do not understand and who threaten to break through Gorkenfort’s defences. In a manner of speaking they have already done so.”

“Yes,” Jorge said, “and I think that—”

“And furthermore,” Axis continued, over him, “
I
think that perhaps Gorkenfort is not the only flashpoint. One of the indications we had that these creatures would renew their attacks was the number of Ravensbundmen migrating down from the north during past weeks. Is it possible that the sightings of strangers about Smyrton, emerging from the Forbidden Valley, is another indication of the same thing? That the creatures who are pushing the
Ravensbundmen from the north are also pushing the creatures of the forest south from the Shadowsward?”

Jorge nodded slowly. But Jayme looked anxious and concerned. “But Axis, are not the Forbidden in the Icescarp Alps and the Forbidden in the Shadowsward the same? Are they fighting among themselves?”

“Or is there something stranger still than the Forbidden, stronger than the Forbidden? More frightening than the Forbidden?” Roland asked.

“Damn it, we just don’t know!” Jorge was angry with himself as much as anyone else. “We just have no idea what it is that we face. Now, what are we going to do about it?”

Borneheld slapped the table with his open hand, attracting everyone’s attention. If he had lost his temper earlier, then he appeared cool and decisive now. “We move, and we move fast. Whether or not we face a threat from the Shadowsward or not I have yet to be convinced,” he shot Axis a brief look of simmering ill-will, “but we do know that we face a threat from above Gorkenfort. If these creatures are wanting to move south through Ichtar then they will have to come through Gorken Pass, it is the only way past the River Andakilsa and the Icescarp Alps. There they will run straight into Gorkenfort. Earl Jorge speaks well. This young virgin is not going to run squealing, nor is she going to lift her skirts. We fight, and it is obvious that this winter the battle will be over Gorkenfort. I have moved many units, both of infantry and of cavalry, to Gorkenfort over the past few weeks. That will not be enough. I propose that as it can be organised, and I think it will only take a few days, I will move another seven thousand men to Gorkenfort. And I will move as many of them as I can the fast way. By ship through the Andeis Sea and then up the River Andakilsa.”

“But those seas are unpredictable in autumn,” said Priam.

“And would you have me move them the slow way, by rowboat up the Nordra and then by forced march across the plains of Ichtar? That journey will take close to six weeks and they will be exhausted when they get there. We need to move now, we need to move as fast
as we can, and we need the men relatively fresh when we get there. If I commandeer as many ships as I can in Nordmuth then I could be there in under three weeks from the time we leave Carlon. It will take more than a week to organise the units and transport.” Borneheld thought for a moment. “Myself and the greater part of the force can be at Gorkenfort ready to fight by mid to late Bone-month; the remainder of the force can go via the Nordra and be in Gorkenfort in early Frost-month, early Snow-month at the latest.
I
am ready.”

Axis sat up straight and directed a level look at his half-brother. “The Axe-Wielders also stand ready to defend Achar.” He did not want anyone in this chamber to think that Borneheld commanded the only force capable of meeting the threat from the north.

Borneheld started to say something, but Jayme leaned forward and held up his hand. “No, BattleAxe. I think you are needed elsewhere. I am ashamed that I cannot provide Priam and Borneheld with the information that they need to fight these creatures. But there is one place where we might still find the information.”

He glanced at Moryson, who nodded slowly. “The Silent Woman Keep.”

There were nervous glances among several of the other men. Over the past forty generations few men, and certainly none in the room, had ever visited the Silent Woman Keep. The Keep stood solid and dark in the centre of the only remaining forest in Achar, the Silent Woman Woods. Many whispered that although the Brotherhood of the Seneschal preached that all forests were evil, they allowed the Silent Woman Woods to remain simply to protect the secrets of the Silent Woman Keep. Few Acharites would ever willingly venture within leagues of the Silent Woman Woods. And no one professed any curiosity about the Silent Woman Keep or the small band of brothers who kept vigil there.

“Yes,” Jayme agreed. “I suggest that you should reinforce the WarLord by all means, but do so by a circuitous route. Take the majority of the Axe-Wielders and travel to the Silent Woman Keep. Our brothers there have access to ancient records and chronicles from the time of the Wars of the Axe. Learn what you can about the
Forbidden. From there, travel on to Smyrton via Arcness and Skarabost to assess the danger. Then,” Jayme turned back to face Priam and Borneheld, “leave some of your Axe-Wielders at Smyrton and travel to Gorkenfort. Borneheld will need both your information and your men if the danger is as bad as it appears.”

Borneheld’s face darkened and he opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by Priam. “A sensible plan, Jayme. We need to know more about these creatures.”

Jorge nodded again. Sensible indeed. It kept Borneheld and Axis apart for as long as possible before the likelihood of real fighting in the north. Even going via the circuitous route Axis could still be at Gorkenfort by the beginning of winter. Winter would be the time these creatures struck in force, if they kept to their previous pattern. And, if Artor were with them, then Axis might also arrive with some information about exactly what it was that they faced. Hopefully, once Borneheld and Axis had a real foe to face they would forget their private enmity.

Borneheld did not look so happy about the arrangement. “Sire, my forces are perfectly capable of—”

Jayme broke in smoothly. “And, of course, when the BattleAxe and the Axe-Wielders arrive in Gorkenfort, WarLord, they will be under your command.”

An expression of deep contentment filled Borneheld’s broad face. “Yes,” he said. “Yes. That would be satisfactory. I’m sure that I’ll be able to use your men somewhere, BattleAxe. And yourself, of course.”

Axis turned to Jayme, a look of angry incredulity over his face. The cloth he had been using to wipe his lip was clenched tightly in his fist. “Brother-Leader—”

Jayme took Axis’ arm. “We have much to discuss in private, BattleAxe. Let it rest.” His painful grip belied his genial face.

Axis took a deep breath and sat back in his chair, avoiding Borneheld’s triumphant gaze, his mouth white and pinched. He would rather burn in the everlasting fire pits of the AfterLife before he handed control of the Axe-Wielders over to Borneheld.

“So,” Priam said, relieved that some decisions had been made, “then we have at least made a start. Roland, Jorge, I can count on you to support Borneheld with troops, supplies, and perhaps your own persons and advice? Good. Gentlemen, if we can adjourn for the moment? I’m sure that each of us has enough to keep us busy. Furrow wide, furrow deep, and may Artor guide our steps over the coming weeks and months.”

As the group left the room, Earl Isend caught up with Borneheld and tweaked his elbow. “Duke Borneheld, if I may speak with you for a moment?”

Borneheld pulled his elbow away roughly, annoyed, and walked a little faster. He did not like the foppish Earl Isend very much.

Isend wet his lips nervously and struggled to keep step with Borneheld as he strode down the corridor. “Duke Borneheld? It is about my daughter…Faraday.”

Borneheld stopped abruptly and turned to look at Isend, a speculative gleam in his eye. He’d taken particular note of Faraday when she had been presented to Priam the night before. Most men in the Chamber of the Moons had.